IN THE MIDST OF MY LOVE.

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To witness love and to experience love, is quite different.I played the role of a witness while my mother experienced love, one received from my father. He was simply a man in love, not with the idea of love, but with the woman who introduced him to love. I recall the days of admiring how beautiful and easy, they made everything seem. Everything felt right with them and I, a few times so, desired to be the one to experience such love. In unfortunate turn of events, tragedy decided to knock at our door. It claimed the life of my father, separating us and leaving us in the cold. My mother seemed lost without her other half.The desire to better relate to her pain had overwhelmed me, so much so, because all I wanted was to offer more support and be a reliable source of comfort for her. The unhealthy mindset I had then, in the early days of fresh and raw pain while mourning, was strong, I admit to this. What amazed me through it all, was the way my mother noticed where where I was ment